


One Last Time

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Black Widow Bingo 2020 [3]
Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Past Character Death, Suggestive Themes, The Framework Universe (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Natasha wakes up to share a beautiful morning with the reader, the person she loves most in the world. However, it soon becomes clear that everything is not as it seems.BWB: D2 - domestic
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Black Widow Bingo 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906966
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	One Last Time

“Good morning, lover,” you sang, jumping down the stairs with a morning energy that Natasha could simply never match. Your smile was as bright as the rising sun, a sight that she would never tire of. You strode across the kitchen and placed a kiss on her cheek, hand trailing across her shoulder blades as you passed by.

The toast popped up at the exact moment you stopped in front of the toaster and you hummed in gentle acknowledgement that Natasha had once again managed to get it the exact way you loved. Popping it onto the plate, you stretched up to grab some spread from the cupboard, the hem of your nightshirt (one stolen from her own collection) lifting over your hips to expose your perky cheeks, still red from last night.

“Stop staring at my arse,” you chided without turning around, lathering the toast with your favourite spread. Knife in hand, you managed to look more attractive than ever – despite the smudged makeup and lightly bruised skin, or perhaps because of it. There was nothing Natasha loved more than knowing you were hers and the marks on your body proved just that. “I’m still sore so no more fun until at least after lunch.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Always,” you grinned. Twisting round to face her, you leant against the counter top bathed in warmth and love. Natasha had never imagined that she would get to live this kind of life, a quiet domesticity with you. There were no secrets, no plots to foil. Just you, the person she loved, and a big house full of happy memories.

Rising to her feet, Natasha plucked the second piece of toast from your side and took a bite, eyebrow raised in defiance. You shot her a look, a playful warning that wasn’t entirely playful. You were good but she was better and continued to munch on your breakfast, teasing your limits until you snapped.

Like a child, you leapt forward and snatched back the half that remained. Before you could storm away, Natasha wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you against her, bodies fitting perfectly together. She knew every inch of you, the smooth, the rough, and had mapped it all out with careful precision across the years. It was second nature now, finding the exact spots that made you moan her name, the desperate sound like music to her ears.

She broke the kiss, lips brushing against yours as she said, “Something to drink?”

It wasn’t really a question and you knew it. Natasha always looked out for you and knew that, regardless of what you claimed, you always needed to hydrate more in the mornings after a heavy session together. You looked up at her from beneath those gorgeous lashes and smiled, accepting her caring suggestion with love in your eyes. “Juice, please.”

Natasha spun you around in a move fit for the Ballroom Tower and sat you on the table, a wicked grin on her face as you winced at the contact with the chair. “Ask nicely and I’ll find the ointment for you.”

“You’ll find it anyway because you love me so much and it’s the nice thing to do. Especially after what you did to me last night.”

“I only did exactly what you asked for,” Natasha pointed out, dropping the cartoon of juice onto the table. She pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, her hand slipping beneath the collar of your shirt to slide down your front. You shivered at her touch, head falling back into her chest as your eyes flickered shut, lips parted in a way that made her oh so desperate to kiss you again.

Pulling away, you groaned. If she didn’t know better, Natasha might have mistaken your neediness for annoyance – although the two were often quite intertwined. “Don’t be mean! You can’t get me worked up and then do nothing!”

“You said no fun until lunch time so you only have yourself to blame. Now, drink your juice. I’m just gonna go grab the paper.”

When she returned, Natasha was proud to see that you were drinking and that the silly (adorable) pout had vanished. You lifted your feet from her chair then replaced them in her lap once she sat down, scrolling through your phone while she scanned the paper. There were no imminent invasions, no mention of alien threats. It was just a nice, normal day.

She turned to the crossword and began to fill it out with ease. Most of the clues were straight forward. Classified names of agents on active projects. Security codes for the server in Delaware. Locations of SHIELD’s secret stash of weapons. Natasha knew them all. One stumped her though.

“Do you know where the Agatumi Sphere is kept?”

You shook your head, your gentle smile levelling into something harder. That wasn’t right. You were supposed to be happy. You were both always happy now that you were together again. Natasha shook her head, her thoughts becoming cloudy. No, you’d always been together. Hadn’t you? Why did she think otherwise?

Reaching across the table, you covered her hand with yours. Dried blood covered your knuckles and the nightshirt grew dark around your abdomen, the fabric sticking to the wound in your side. “You can’t tell them, Nat.”

“Who? Tell who what?”

You tapped the crossword. The paper flickered, twitched and changed as if she was looking at it through a lens. It had to be some kind of special effect, a trick paper. Real life didn’t glitch like a computer program. Did it?

“They’re listening. They want to know what you know.” You knocked your glass of juice over the paper and the ink started to run, taking with it all the classified names and information she had shared. “This isn’t real.”

Natasha shook her head, unable – unwilling – to believe you. For the first time in her life, she wanted you to be lying, for you to look her in the eyes and tell her anything but the truth. Only, you would never do that to her. Not even now.

“I’m not real. I am a computer simulation, generated by The Framework from your memories. I do not exist.”

“No, this is a trick.”

“I’m sorry. The Framework made a perfect replication of the person you loved but it isn’t real. I always told you the truth out there so believe what I am saying now. I wouldn’t lie to you, Nat. I never could.”

“You can’t leave me again.”

You cupped her face in your hands, blood now streaming down your arms, in exactly the same way as it had been before. That awful day, the worst day of Natasha’s life. The day you’d died. You brushed your lips over hers and pressed your foreheads together. “Your teammates are coming. The system is compromised and failing. You need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Natasha promised. She wiped the blood from your face but it poured too quickly from the wounds for her action to make any different. “I won’t -”

“You’ve gotta wake up now, lover. It’s not safe for you here any more. Let me save you one last time”

Natasha squeezed your hand even tighter, holding together the fantasy with nothing other than sheer will alone. “I don’t want to.”

You smiled, sweet as ever but underlined by a sadness that shattered Natasha’s heart. As you brushed the loose strand of hair from her face, she barely felt your touch. You were fading now, drifting away with her surroundings until there was nothing but cold, harsh light surrounding her.

“I will always love you, Natasha.”

Tears spilled from her eyes and Clint, forever the best friend Natasha could ask for, wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt before any of the rest of the team could witness her weakness. He speedily undid the cuffs around her wrists and ankles that bound her to the rig. Natasha winced as she plucked the sensors from her chest and fell forward, grateful as Clint swept her up in his arms.

She plucked the gun from his waistband and shot the thugs that bounded round the corner to prevent her escape, taking them each down with a clinical shot to the head. Clint’s fingers dug deeper into her muscles to ease a little of the pent up anger and tension, the familiar exercise developed over years of partnership together. “What do you need?”

“Put me down.”

Clint obliged immediately but his arm remained firmly around her waist to support her weight; whether it was hours or months that she’d been trapped in The Framework, it had drained her either way and Natasha could barely maintain her balance. Usually, the reliance on another would fill her with dread – or shame. Today she welcomed it, needing him more than ever.

Before Steve could ever give the order to get her to safety, Clint lead Natasha out through the enormous hole they’d blown in the side of the base, back to the Quinjet. He set her down in the first seat and crouched down on his knees, taking her bloody hands in his. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ll recover.”

“That’s no answer.”

“It’s all you’re going to get.”

“Fair enough.”

Clint checked in with the team but they didn’t require his back up. Steve and Sam had taken out all the muscle hired to protect the rig and Bruce and Tony were already taking it apart to bring it back to the Compound to study. Natasha thought it was a mistake and would tell them so later, but right now she could barely think straight.

By her side, right where he always was, Clint tapped away at his phone, trying to beat the high score on a game he hadn’t played for years. She appreciated the effort to look busy, to give her the time and space to tell him what she’d seen in her own time. Only, Natasha knew it wouldn’t get easier. It was over a year since you’d died and this had torn open those wounds, exposed her weaknesses, reignited the pain and the anger, all over again.

Falling into his side, Natasha buried her head in his neck and whispered your name. Clint sagged beneath her and wrapped her in his arms, a vice like embrace, squeezing the air from her lungs but also acting as her shield, protecting her from the harsh realities of life. “I’m so sorry, Nat.”

Her voice was cold, clinical – the only way she knew to speak her heart without letting it tear her completely in two. With enough distancing, Natasha could pretend that it had happened to someone else, that another poor unfortunate soul had suffered instead of her. It didn’t fill the hole in her chest but it made it a little easier.

“It was everything we ever talked about. A home. A life away from SHIELD. It was beautiful.”

“Did it feel real?”

Natasha nodded. “I didn’t know it wasn’t. Not until it was too late. I wanted to stay.”

“You would have died.”

“I wonder sometimes if I didn’t die that day, along with Y/N. It feels like a piece of me is buried right there with them.”

Clint didn’t respond, aware that nothing he could say would make that particular pain go away. He knew what it was like to lose people he loved. Natasha remembered what he’d been like after Bobbi was murdered. It almost destroyed him. So, yes, he understood exactly how she felt and that it wasn’t an overstatement to say she lost a part of herself when you died.

Wallowing together was fun and all but the rest of the team returned to the Quinjet and Natasha pushed her feelings away, buried them deep and condensed them into a ball of rage and hurt to use against the next villains that tried to cross them. It was a distraction, an unhealthy way of dealing with her loss, but she knew no other way. The Red Room hadn’t exactly trained her well when it came to emotional stability.

“Was there coffee?”

Natasha pulled back from her friend, confusion momentarily squashing her self pitying emotions. “What?”

“In The Framework? Was there coffee?”

“I don’t think so. Why is that important?”

“Because,” Clint sang. “Y/N would always make me coffee in the mornings, regardless of where in the world I was, just in case I came back early. And no coffee on the table means that I wasn’t there. I didn’t exist. Now, I know you loved them but you also love me and you would have spent the rest of your life there wondering what was missing.”

The convoluted logic brought a weak smile to Natasha’s face, more for his benefit than anything. She settled back against his shoulder and allowed her eyes to drift close, clinging on to the image of your smile in the darkness. “There’s always something missing, Barton. Around Y/N, though…”

“It felt like it the emptiness wouldn’t consume you? Yeah. I know.” Clint twisted round to place a kiss on her forehead, the soft touch conjuring a tightness in her chest that Natasha had fought hard to ignore for years. Love was for children. It was weakness, something to be exploited. The Framework proved that. Her kidnappers had blinded her sensibilities with a shadow of you, twisted and abused your memory to extract sensitive information from her.

Unaware of her exact thoughts but always privy to what she needed, Clint asked, “You wanna head to the firing range when we get back?”

Natasha shook her head. Another day, she might have agreed but today was too much. “I just want to be alone.”

She knew Clint well enough to know that he wanted to argue, that he was seconds away from launching into a speech about how he would always be there by her side, that he had made you a promise to never let her suffer alone. The thing was, she knew all that already. She always had. And it did help, in a way, to know that she wasn’t entirely alone but in some ways it only made the loss sting even more.

Not a hint of pity or disappointment, Clint muttered softly, “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

He left her to debrief with the rest of the team and Natasha closed her eyes, the metallic chair hard and uncomfortable beneath her. Knowing only one way to conquer pain, she let her mind drift back to your smile, your gentle touch and knowing laugh, and lost herself in what could never have been.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this! It always makes my day to read them <3


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